


Four is Company

by sleepydanceur



Series: Jongin's Birthday Fic Countdown 2017 [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Kimbros!AU, Lots of brotherly bonding, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9281402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydanceur/pseuds/sleepydanceur
Summary: Kimbros!AUJongin doesn't know where he would be without his brothers, can't imagine a world without them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> D-3 to Jongin's birthday!
> 
> I really wanted to write a fic that centered around the platonic brotherly love between Kimbros tbh, I wanted to explore that kind of relationship a bit more than any respective romantic side interests yet. 
> 
> I kinda want to turn this into just a loose Kimbros series rather than a fully structured chaptered kind of fic, so I can just explore it freely, and not necessarily linearly, especially when I try to go into certain side pairing eventually (I'll tag the fic properly when I get to that.)
> 
> I just really love Kimbros' relationship so so so much, I hope I did it at least a fraction of justice TT

Jongin steps out of work a little early for his break, deciding to head down to his boyfriend’s office to surprise him early for lunch. He slips into the building unnoticed, taking the elevator up to the right floor. Jihwan’s secretary isn’t at her desk this time; probably had to run an errand for Jihwan somewhere else. All the better to maintain the surprise. Jongin creeps up to the office door, finding it already cracked open a sliver and he’s about to peek inside to check that he’s there when he hears the low timbre of Jihwan’s voice, speaking to someone. He can’t hear anyone else in the room so he figures it must be on a phone call. He laughs and Jongin smiles at the sound, deciding to wait a little longer behind the door till he’s done, not wanting to interrupt a work call. Except he catches a couple of words floating through the crack and frowns, shifting to listen a little more closely at what he’s saying. Jongin catches the next line and freezes. 

“I just need a little more time, I’m so close to hitting the real jackpot here. I’m milking him so hard right now, don’t worry, baby. You would not believe how loaded his family is. I could probably get him to buy me a condo soon.”

Jongin’s heart stops. He forgets to breathe, feeling lightheaded with the sudden ripple of numbness tingling at his extremities. The sound of Jihwan’s chuckling echoes in his head, the sound only half muffled by the ringing in his ears. Jongin wonders, fools himself for half a moment that _maybe_ Jihwan isn’t even talking about him, but then he hears his own name, loud and clear.

He can barely process what he heard and the implications behind the words. Jongin’s legs finally move steadily enough without the danger of buckling underneath him and he stumbles away from the office door, too stunned to do anything else but put some distance between them. 

He’s not even sure which direction he’s headed at this point, coming out into yet another long corridor and tries to stop his head from spinning through the roaring in his ears. Jongin finally just stops and leans back against the wall, wincing at the thunderous pain in his chest. 

The past six months of his life have just been one enormous lie. Born into a rich family, his parents always warned his brothers and him that people might try to take advantage of them. Jongin just figured he’d know it was happening and see it coming a mile away before it did.  
Turns out he just let himself get sucked in whole till it was too late and now everything hurts and he has no idea what to do with himself. Maybe he was just too naive to believe that someone would actually go for him for something other than his money. His thoughts are racing, clamouring in his head. Every single moment he’s spent with Jihwan, where he thought they had something good going, where Jongin was lost in the happiness he thought they shared; it all just boils down to his wealth. Ironically, Jongin has never felt more worthless. 

A vibration in his pocket snaps him out of his spiralling thoughts and Jongin pulls out his phone, hastily blinking away the wet blurriness in his eyes. Luckily, it’s a text not a phone call. It’s from Jongdae, reminding him to drop by the studio later. Jongin frowns, having forgotten about the appointment in the middle of all this. His brothers want him to design their new album cover and he’d agreed to come by to discuss the design with them and their management team. Sighing, Jongin drops his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.

 

▸

 

He stands outside the door to his brothers’ studio, hesitant to go in just yet. He’d gone back up to Jihwan’s office eventually, after he decided he shouldn’t put it off any longer. His lower lip is still bleeding from where he bit right through it with his anxious chewing. It went about as well as it could have, that is to say, horrifically. It took all of fifteen minutes but it felt like it dragged on forever. Jongin doesn’t even know how it happened, but by the end of it, somehow, the infidelity and money opportunism turned into Jongin’s fault, for being naive, for being born with a silver spoon in his mouth, for not having seen it coming. Jongin left the office with a curt _“we’re done”_ , trying not to crumble right in front of the man who’s hollowed him out completely. 

He can’t put off going inside any longer, not when Jongdae’s shooting him a couple more texts asking where he is. Jongin is still reeling, struggling to swallow past the sharp ache spiking up in his throat. At least he’s managed to keep his eyes dry for the most part, just barely holding it together enough to keep it all in. 

Sucking in a shaky breath, he pushes the door open, immediately met by a wave of sound and booming music. 

“Cue the lighting!”

Jongin flashes his pass card at the entrance and then slides around the bustle of the crew by the perimeter of the set, staying out of their way as they hurry by with heavy equipment. Junmyeon is hunched over behind the laptop screens, flicking through the sample shots and videos, calling out more instructions to the rest of the crew. It’s almost impossible to see anything through the ring of people and high camera stands but a gap finally opens up and Jongin spots Minseok standing in the middle of the set, donning an expensive looking leather jacket that compliments his heavy make up. They’re going for a more mature concept with the album this time around. 

Jongin hangs back, not wanting to distract them and just watches silently from the side as Minseok angles his body towards the camera, using the flaps of his jacket to move in different poses. He’s always liked watching his brothers work, completely in charge and confident in what they’re doing. 

“Alright, we got it! Let’s take five, everyone.” 

The crew starts to disperse a little while the stylists and assistants hurry up to Minseok with towels and bottles of water. Now that the bustle of activity is calming down, Jongin suddenly starts to feel a little lost, anxious about the inevitable confrontation. Maybe he can somehow get through this without letting anything slip. 

“Jongin!”

There’s no more time to think about it because Jongdae shows up, emerging from one of the back rooms where the music studios are and waves at him cheerfully, walking up to him in greeting. Jongin waves back weakly, making a monumental effort to maintain the slightly wobbly smile on his face. 

“Glad you could make it,” Jongdae beams, clapping him on the shoulder once he reaches him. He beckons the others over and Jongin feels his heart squeeze a little tighter when his other brothers start making their way over to join them. He’s starting to feel a little lightheaded again. 

“Jongin?” 

Junmyeon’s concerned voice breaks through the roaring in his ears and his face swims into his line of sight. 

“Are you okay? You look a little sick.”

Minseok and Jongdae stare at him too now, starting to notice that something’s wrong and Jongin’s can almost feel the blood draining out of his face.

He works a dry smile onto his face, holding it for as long as he can before he can convince himself to start talking. He makes it through the first few words before his voice cracks, mortified at how he’s already crumbling. 

His hands are shaking when he’s done explaining what happened, feeling even more hollowed out though he didn’t think that was even possible. 

His brothers look stunned and Jongdae immediately pulls him into a hard hug, and somehow Jongin still manages not to let the prickle in the corners of his eyes overwhelm him. 

Minseok, on the other hand, looks livid.

“He’s still at the office right? I’m gonna kill him.” 

He certainly looks like he’s about to make good on his word, already turning to march out but Jongin manages to grab hold of him and stop him in his tracks. 

“Leave it,” he says hoarsely, suddenly feeling too exhausted to be on his feet. “It’s not worth it.” 

They must sense the heavy inflection of the words in his voice because Junmyeon’s face goes hard and he reaches up to grasp the back of Jongin’s neck firmly. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, giving him a small shake as though getting him to really listen to him. “This is _not_ your fault. The shit someone else pulls is not the baseline for who you are, no matter who it is.”

Jongin nods, but he knows they can tell he’s not convinced. A loud bell echoes throughout the studio and Jongin can see the staff reconvening around the set, a sign that their break is over. 

“I should go,” Jongin says, not wanting to disrupt the entire workplace. He cuts his brothers off before they try to protest, knowing full well how insistent they can be. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

He walks away before they can say anything else, stepping out of the studio before they can try to run after him. Jongin has to take a minute to pull himself together, swallowing through his dry throat and heaving in a huge breath that doesn’t really soothe him, before walking down the street to head home. 

He doesn’t go to his place. There’s too many of Jihwan’s things lying around that he doesn’t want to deal with right now. He lets himself inside Jongdae’s apartment instead, only a couple of corners away from his own. 

They tend to do this a lot, dropping by each other’s place unannounced, especially since they’ve got a copy of the other’s key anyway. Even though his brother isn’t there, it almost feels like he isn’t entirely alone when he’s in a place that has so much of Jongdae in it. Sighing, Jongin slumps on the couch, checking the time wondering when Jongdae will actually be done with work. Maybe they can order fried chicken and watch some lame movie together to distract him and take his mind off things. The thought of it still brings the pain back and Jongin stares at his palms dejectedly, feeling the hot prickle burn threateningly in the corners of his eyes again. He feels hollow, inevitably starting to file through every memory they’d made together and overanalyze every second of their entire relationship to see what he did wrong, what he could have done better. He shakes himself out of it, berating himself for wallowing in misplaced blame and guilt. He can’t do this to himself. 

He glances at his phone again, groaning when he sees that barely five minutes have passed since he last checked, and Jongdae is no closer to being done with work now than he was then. 

He’s barely finished that train of thought when the door clicks and swings open suddenly. Lighting up, Jongin springs to his feet to go and greet him except it’s not Jongdae who comes to the door. 

“Oh, uh…”

The tall man that walks in stops short when he sees Jongin, looking just as surprised to see him there too. Then a look of recognition flashes across his face. 

“You’re Jongin, right?” he smiles and Jongin is a little taken aback at how deep his voice is compared to the young boyishness of his face. “I’ve seen the family photos.”

The look of confusion must still be etched on Jongin’s face because Chanyeol rushes to explain, shutting the door behind him. 

“I’m Chanyeol,” he says quickly. “I’m a friend of Jongdae’s, he’s letting me crash here for a while till my apartment’s fixed. Busted water pipes.” 

Jongin nods, the name faintly ringing a bell though he can’t quite place it. 

“I was just uh...waiting for Jongdae to get home,” Jongin says awkwardly, wondering if he should just head back to his place for the day. He grabs his keys off the counter to do just that but Chanyeol interjects quickly. 

“You could hang around till he gets here?” he says, looking almost like he was about to grab Jongin’s hand to stop him. “I brought some food if you wanna help me dig into this.”

It’s then that Jongin notices the plastic bags Chanyeol is setting down on the kitchen table, recognizing the familiar brand name printed on the plastic. 

“I dropped by the chicken place around the block, I don’t know if you like it-”

“I love it,” Jongin answers promptly, drooling a little when the scent meets his nose. His stomach grumbles then, as though to make a point. Chanyeol chuckles at the sound and pulls open the fridge to bring out a couple of sodas, setting one down in front of Jongin. 

“Cheers,” he says, popping his open and obligingly clinks the neck of Jongin’s bottle when he holds it out. 

“So where do you know Jongdae?” Jongin asks, swallowing down the giant mouthful of chicken he’s munching on. 

“Oh, we work together,” Chanyeol says to his surprise. “I know Junmyeon and Minseok too, but I work more closely with Jongdae. I’m a music producer.”

“How come I’ve never seen you around?” Jongin muses, digging into the next drumstick in the carton box. 

“I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kinda guy there,” Chanyeol says, his tone lilting with pride. “I stick to the music studio most of the time really.” 

Jongin hums thoughtfully. That means he must be the composer of all their music, working with Jongdae to write the songs. 

“How about you, what do you do?” Chanyeol asks suddenly, looking interested as he turns the question back on him. 

“I’m an artist; I draw manhwas,” Jongin says, feeling both proud and a little abashed at the awed look on Chanyeol’s face. He’s on his fifth work now, almost done with it before he can finally send it off to be published and released on the shelves soon. 

“That’s so cool! I read tons of manhwas,” Chanyeol says, pointing at himself excitedly. “Which ones are yours? I feel like I would remember seeing your name on the cover.”

“I use a pseudonym,” Jongin explains, having picked the alias when he realized how much he liked what it meant. “I’m Kai.”

Chanyeol nearly falls off his stool, gaping at Jongin like he’s suddenly grown two heads. 

“You’re _the_ Kai?” he marvels in a hushed tone. Then he narrows his eyes suddenly. “I’m gonna _kill_ Jongdae, I can’t believe he never told me his brother is _Kai_.”

Jongin bursts out laughing, charmed by Chanyeol’s explosive reaction to all this and Chanyeol’s face immediately melts into a smile too, chuckling at his own expense. 

The sudden sound of a key fiddling in the front door interrupts them and Jongdae walks in, looking surprised to see both of them there in his kitchen. He immediately gets over that surprise when he catches sight of the half emptied take out boxes.

“You guys barely left enough for me!” he whines, smacking Chanyeol hard on the shoulder as though he’s the only guilty party here. Jongin stifles his snort at Chanyeol’s indignant expression as he clutches his arm. Being the baby brother certainly has its perks. 

“It’s fine, I could go for some more,” Jongin reassures him, rummaging through one of the kitchen drawers to find the right take out brochure.

“I gotta go anyway,” Chanyeol says excusing himself and throws Jongdae one last glare. “I just dropped by to get a fresh change of clothes before I get back to the studio.”

He collects his things, stuffing everything into his backpack which already looks fit to burst by now. 

“It was really nice to finally meet you, Jongin,” he says then, turning to Jongin before he heads out through the door. Chanyeol throws him a wide smile and Jongin offers a small wave back before the door closes behind him.

Jongdae putters around the kitchen, swiftly cleaning away the empty take out boxes from the counter, finally swatting at Jongin’s butt with the dishcloth in teasing reprimand for having eaten everything without him. He doesn’t even question what Jongin was doing here in the first place. 

Jongdae tactfully avoids outright bringing up the subject that’s clearly the elephant in the room, delicately letting it be while still acknowledging that it’s there. 

“Alright?” he asks simply, too compassionate to say nothing at all. Jongin gives him a quick nod and Jongdae respectfully doesn’t press when he pointedly changes the subject. Jongin has always appreciated how much Jongdae respects him enough not to patronize or baby him too much when he’s struggling with something, despite being his little brother. 

The front door suddenly bursts open again and Jongin is surprised to see Minseok and Junmyeon marching in, loaded with more bags of take out. Incidentally, also chicken. 

“Movie night,” Minseok grins, even though there’s still three more days till Friday, their usual scheduled movie night. He immediately commandeers the remote to scroll through the movies in the list, slumping down heavily on Jongdae who’s sitting on the couch, making him squawk indignantly. 

Jongin manages to scooch over just enough for Junmyeon to squeeze in beside him, sinking back into the cushions with a smile. Minseok finally settles down, still half on Jongdae but just comfortable enough for all of them and Jongin feels a familiar comfortable touch of warmth settling in his chest, beyond grateful to have his brothers here with him. 

He falls asleep like that halfway through the movie and jolts awake in the darkness to complete silence and the feeling of a blanket draped over him. Junmyeon and Minseok are gone, probably having gone back home by now and Jongdae isn't there either. A shiver runs up his spine from the draught coming in through the narrow gap under the door, and Jongin suddenly starts to feel hollow again, left to his own thoughts in the silent darkness. Sighing, he wonders if he should just go home, not even sure what time it is. It must be almost midnight by now. He should probably get going anyhow if he wants to get an early start on work tomorrow. Sitting up, Jongin tightens his grip on the blanket around his shoulders, trying to fight off the chill and treads quietly towards Jongdae’s bedroom to check on him. He can barely make out Jongdae’s form under the covers in the dark but he can hear him breathing. It sounds wheezy and Jongin realizes he must be freezing, only now realizing that the blanket usually spread out on Jongdae’s bed is the one around his own shoulders. Jongin slips out of it with a small smile and moves to drape it over Jongdae again. 

Just as he turns to leave, Jongdae groans and shifts under the covers, muttering something about fire. 

“What?” Jongin whispers, not even sure Jongdae is actually awake. 

“Matches. Lots of them. We’re gonna go burn everything that asshole owns,” Jongdae mumbles, slurring his words sleepily before he dozes off again and his breathing steadies out in seconds. Jongin stays a moment longer, smiling before he leaves. 

There’s really no way he can stop the wave of crushing heartache that punches through his chest the second he walks into his own apartment. Suddenly everything feels foreign to him and glaringly in his face like a burning reminder that there’s memories scattered across almost every inch of his apartment, in the most random places. He doesn’t dare step into his bedroom where he knows some of Jihwan’s clothes are still strewn across his bed. The duvet itself probably still smells of him from when he slept over every so often. 

Jongin resorts to curling up on his couch, deeming it the safest place to just close his eyes and hope that his breaking heart doesn’t shatter through his ribs in his sleep. It’s freezing out here without anything to cover himself with, but Jongin almost welcomes the cold, relishing the numbness that comes with it. He’s exhausted enough that it doesn’t take long for him to sink into a fitful, dreamless sleep. 

 

▸

 

Jongdae actually comes to pick him up, knocking loudly and ringing the doorbell incessantly till Jongin groans and rolls over too far, forgetting he’d fallen asleep on the couch and tumbles onto the cold floor. Grumpy and groggy, he drags himself to the window and blinks in surprise to see all his brothers there in Minseok’s car, waiting for him in the driveway. Jongdae throws him a wave before disappearing for a few moments, only to startle Jongin again when he bursts through the door cheerfully, with his own copy of the key of course. 

“Whas goin’ on?” Jongin mumbles, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It takes him a moment to see the large cardboard box in Jongdae’s hand. “What’s that for?” 

Jongdae pushes it into his hands. “Pack up his shit. I’ll get the matches.”

Jongin vaguely remembers him mentioning something about that the night before, still too groggy to put the pieces together and figure it out just yet. He stares at the empty box, biting his lip. He goes for Jihwan’s mug in the kitchen first, making his way around to the living room and the bathroom, throwing in the things that aren't his; a toothbrush, towels, a bathrobe, even the brand new can of shaving foam in the cabinet. He’ll get another, one that he buys himself. 

Eventually, the only room left is his bedroom and Jongin freezes by the doorway, feeling the added weight of the box dragging him down, chaining him to the spot. 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Jongdae tells him gently, holding onto a stray few articles of clothing that don’t belong to Jongin. He hadn’t even realized they weren’t his, having grown so used to seeing them strewn across his apartment that it just looked like they belonged. 

Jongin nods and waits until Jongdae’s footsteps fade down the stairs before he heaves in a huge breath and steps inside his bedroom. There’s just so much of Jihwan here, cemented into Jongin’s room, in Jongin’s life. 

The perfume bottle he takes down from the dresser suddenly slips through his fingers and shatters on the floor. The powerful scent punches through his senses immediately and Jongin suddenly feels a bubble of anger growing in his chest. He marches around his room, throwing things into the box haphazardly, not bothered by the way the soil from the flowerpot he throws in gets all over everything inside the box. The plant it used to hold died a long time ago anyway. He’d only held on to the pot for sentimental value. 

Jongin straightens up when it looks like he’s done, giving the room a final once over. There’s nothing left of Jihwan in here. Jongin gruffly hoists the heavy box up into his arms and heads out the door, handing it off to Jongdae to stuff it in the trunk. 

“What now?” Jongin asks, looking at his brothers through the open window by the front seat.

“Get in,” Minseok says. “We’re going to the beach.”

“But I’ve got work. _You_ guys have work too,” Jongin protests feebly even as he climbs into the backseat with Jongdae. 

“Take a sick day. We’ll catch up on work later,” Junmyeon says cheerfully, turning on the radio to put on some music as Minseok pulls back out onto the road. 

It’s a long drive to where they’re going, a small bay that’s a little out of the way and hard to reach unless you know your way around. Minseok navigates through the narrow paths, driving off the road entirely to get onto the rocky dirt paths that lead all the way down to the bay hidden behind the little hill looming over it. 

It looks exactly the same as it did years ago when they last came here, quiet and reserved as ever with the calm waters lapping up along the edge of the sand bank. Junmyeon lugs a giant picnic basket from the trunk onto the sand, proudly displaying the literal banquet of food he’d prepared for all of them. 

“When did you even have time to make all this?” Jongin asks incredulously, his mouthwatering at the sight of the chicken breast. Pleased, Junmyeon just smiles, though he smacks Jongin’s fingers away when he tries to sneak out a piece, saying it needs to be heated up first to taste the full flavour.

“I’m on it,” Minseok says, already working on a ring of large stones to fill in with the pieces of wood and twigs he’s able to find lying around. Everything feels so perfectly orchestrated, like they’d thoroughly planned this entire thing out before they even got here. It must have been when he’d fallen asleep during the movie the night before.

Touched, his heart swells up and Jongin settles back on the sand, pulling his knees up to rest his elbows on them as he watches his brothers move around him, setting up their spot. Minseok manages to get a fire going, grinning as he takes a dramatic bow when the others cheer. 

Jongdae slumps down on the sand beside him, cackling at Jongin's whine when the movement gets sand all over him. He reaches over into the basket to pull out a couple of chilled beer bottles, pushing one into Jongin's hand and clinks the glass necks together. 

Junmyeon finally lets them dig into the feast, passing food around until they're all so full they can barely sit up straight. Jongin closes his eyes when the sea breeze blows in on them softly, swaying in time with the sound of the waves and enjoys the slight buzz from the beers he's had. He's acutely aware of the box with Jihwan’s things sitting half concealed by the picnic basket but he tries to keep his eyes off it, focusing on the food in his hands and the crackling bright flames of the fire instead. 

Minseok is the one who makes the first move, nudging Jongin to draw his attention to one of the shirts he’d pulled out of the box balled up in his hands. He pushes into Jongin’s hand gently and raises his bottle of beer in encouragement. 

Jongin stares at the shirt, feeling the texture of the thin fabric between his fingers. It probably still smells of Jihwan too though Jongin doesn’t bring it anywhere near his face to check. It isn’t worth anything anymore. 

He chucks it into the fire, and immediately pushes the sour feeling down with a huge mouthful of beer, to which the others join in too. It’s only now that he’s really looking at the box that he realize how much there is to go through, how much of Jihwan he’d had cemented in his life. 

Jongin decides to get it over with quickly; rip the bandaid off. Grabbing fistfuls of whatever he can grab onto inside the box, he throws it all into the fire, be it clothes, ornaments or cosmetics. The others help him, digging out whatever he misses and toss it into the growing bonfire, fueled by the material being thrown in until the box is finally empty and Jongin throws that in too, watching it be consumed by the flames. 

He sits back heavily, really letting it sink in this time as he watches the flames melt through the things, making them unrecognizable. It hurts. It aches so much, he can barely breathe through it and the feeling overwhelms him, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. His throat closes up sharply and he finally breaks down completely, feeling the hot stream of tears roll down his face, unable to stop himself from crying. 

Jongin can feel his brothers shifting closer, sitting with him through it with their arms around him as he cries himself dry. He knows it’s Minseok’s hand in his hair, ruffling it the way he always does, and Junmyeon and Jongdae’s firm support on either side of him, nothing short of their usual protectiveness as his shoulders shake uncontrollably. 

He cries long enough that his throat is sore and his eyes are so puffy he can barely open them all the way. Still, despite the ache, it feels incredibly cathartic to finally just let it out, especially since he’s around his brothers. They’re a constant reminder that he’ll never be alone, no matter how it may feel that way sometimes when his entire world tips over like this. 

Honestly, he never thought he would feel so completely shattered over a break-up, no matter how deeply he may have felt about it. It hits him though, that it’s not even the failed relationship that’s really stabbing at his chest, but the fact that he allowed himself to be played into a version of himself that was completely worthless as a person. It’s the idea that he’ll never genuinely be worth anything to anyone that really makes his throat close up like there’s a noose around it.

The others don’t let him dwell on the thought for too long though, suddenly yanking him up onto his feet and dragging him down by the edge of the water. Jongin gladly lets himself be drawn into their radiant enjoyment, allowing himself to be distracted and just breathe easily for a moment. 

He charges towards Junmyeon, tripping him up and sending him tumbling down into the water, soaking right through his clothes. The others roar with laughter, immediately wading over to attack splash Junmyeon some more, even as he yells indignantly and tries to splash them back, hopelessly outnumbered. 

Jongdae is doubled over with laughter and Jongin just catches the mischievous glint in Minseok’s eye as he creeps up behind him, leaping onto him to dunk his head down underwater. Jongin bursts out laughing when Jongdae resurfaces spluttering, feeling his chest gradually lightening from the load that had been weighing on it so heavily.

It’s a little too cold to be playing in the sea at this time, especially since the sun is setting, but they keep splashing around, carrying and throwing each other around until their skin starts getting pruney. 

Jongin chuckles at the way Junmyeon clings more tightly to him with his arms around his neck when he carries him bridal style for one last toss, deciding to spare him. They finally get out of the water before they lose too much of the sun to let their clothes dry. Jongin frog marches Jongdae up along the sandy bank, keeping his hands on his shoulders till Jongdae suddenly stops, bending down and reaching back to hook his arms around Jongin’s thighs and hoists him up on his back. Taken by surprise, Jongin quickly throws his arms around Jongdae’s shoulders with a loud laugh, trying not to topple over. Jongdae carries him up all the way to where they left their stuff, only refraining from dropping him onto the sand because Minseok yells about not wanting his car to be caked in sand. 

Luckily, the fire is still going enough for them to get warm again, fighting off the chill that the sunset by the beach brings along. It’s still not enough to dry them off completely but it’s just enough for Minseok to deem acceptable on his car seats. 

Jongin watches the beach grow smaller through the rearview mirror as they drive away, already missing the fresh, salty scent of the sea. The ache is still there, muted now but still there. He hadn’t expected it to disappear after a fun day at the beach but at least the hopelessness eating away at him has abated, enough that he thinks he’ll get through this. He tears his eyes away from the beach to look at his brothers instead, infinitely grateful for the way they’re always there for him. Jongdae catches him looking, reaching over to pat his knee, silently acknowledging the gratitude that must be written all over his face. For the first time since the entire ordeal happened, Jongin’s chest finally settles. 

 

▸

 

It’s been a couple of weeks since then and Jongin has been doing his best to double down on work, throwing himself into his latest piece to try and get it done before his looming deadline but he’s hit a rut. 

He finds himself spinning around on his chair for what’s probably the fourth time in the past hour, staring up at the ceiling and feeling completely unmotivated. Jongin spins around a little faster, as though the momentum will somehow jog some inspiration and fresh ideas into his head. 

Sighing, he finally gets up, swaying a little dizzily. Luckily, he gets to work in his own private studio by himself, so there’s no one around to watch him stumble over himself, both physically and creatively. 

It’s almost noon and he decides that grabbing a bite to eat will probably do him some good at this point. There’s a cafe nearby that has the chicken sandwich he usually likes and he pulls on his jacket before stepping out into the cold.

There’s a short line before his turn at the counter and Jongin takes his time scanning over the different choices of hot chocolate drinks on the menu overhead, wondering how much of a sugar rush he really wants in the middle of the day. 

“Jongin?”

Jongin swings around at the deep voice behind him, finding Chanyeol standing behind him with a wide smile on his face. 

“Oh, hey!” Jongin greets him, endeared and a little pleased at the way Chanyeol’s face lights up. It’s no surprise really that they’d run into each other here; his studio _is_ only a couple of blocks away from where his brothers work. 

“I’m making a quick coffee run for the studio,” Chanyeol explains, tugging out a crumpled list from his coat pocket with the orders. “I lost a bet so I’m paying.” 

Jongin laughs at his dejected face, only grinning wider at Chanyeol’s betrayed expression. 

“Jongdae’s idea, right?” he asks amused, already knowing the answer when Chanyeol huffs grumpily. He steps aside when his order is done so Chanyeol can move up to the counter. 

“Are you busy with work?” Chanyeol asks then, noticing the pencil stains all over his hands. They’re all from brainstorm doodles which are no good at all, sitting crumpled at the bottom of his trashcan now.

“Not really,” he sighs, following Chanyeol out of the cafe and holding the door open for him since his hands are full. “Can’t seem to kickstart any inspiration to draw something decent.”

Chanyeol hums sympathetically, probably having hit the same wall as an artist himself, albeit with music in his case. 

“Hey, do you wanna come over to the studio with me for a bit?” he says suddenly, turning to look at Jongin eagerly. “It’ll get your mind off it, with the change of scenery and all. I could show you what I’m working on with Jongdae?” 

He sounds so hopeful that Jongin couldn’t refuse if he wanted to, which he most certainly does not. 

“I’d love to,” Jongin says, feeling like maybe he might actually be able to chip through the wall he’s come up against by the end of the day.

[](http://s50.photobucket.com/user/bezzinakaren/media/kimbros_zpsnwxcqtbp.png.html)


	2. Lean On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back then it was a cluster of flimsy, damp seaweed bracelets around their wrists sealing the deal. Now it’s just a memory that burns in the backs of their minds, reminding them that it’s always there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! From Jongdae's pov this time. 
> 
> I love kimbros T__T

Jongdae slumps back against the padded back of his chair, rolling his neck to get the stiffness out after a long morning of sitting hunched over the control board. Chanyeol reaches over, holding out his closed fist and Jongdae returns the fist bump with a grin. They’d had to spend a few extra hours working in the recording studio because their usual sample vocalist called in sick and Jongdae stepped in, just for today. For the sake of at least making _some_ progress with the recording and composing, he tells Chanyeol, getting a hard stink eye in return. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Jongdae huffs, groaning as he finally hauls himself off the chair and stretches his back. 

“Would you quit being so stubborn?” Chanyeol shoots back, kicking at Jongdae’s chair to make it bump into the back of his knees, almost knocking him off balance. 

“I’m not stubborn,” Jongdae retorts flatly, firmly dragging his chair out of Chanyeol’s reach. He heads for the door. “I’m just being practical.” 

They’ve had this conversation countless times already. Ever since Chanyeol accidentally walked in on Jongdae singing by himself in the studio, he hasn’t let it go. He’s unrelenting, insisting that Jongdae is inexplicably refusing to acknowledge that he’s a great vocalist and owning it. 

“You should go for it!” Chanyeol had exclaimed, catching sight of the scribbled notes Jongdae had penned down on the composition sheets; something he’d been working on for a while. 

“Do your brothers know about this?”

“No,” Jongdae had said immediately. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Rather, Minseok and Junmyeon don’t know. Jongin, well; Jongin had figured it out a while ago, perceptive as he always is. They’re all aware of his solid vocals, but Jongin was the only one who’d picked up on the sentiment he was hiding behind it, also having had a similarly unsuccessful argument with him about pursuing it. 

It _has_ been on his mind, for a long time now, almost for as long as they've been running this entire business together. Ever since he realized he might actually like the idea of adding his own input to the music beyond sound production and composing. He’s just not sure how to bring it up or if he’s ready to even bring it up at all. Keeping it to himself just feels safer, until he figures out what he really wants. 

“I’m not cut out for that kind of life,” Jongdae had insisted, trying to ignore the perplexed expression on Jongin’s face then. “We’ve got a good thing going right now. I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Jongin had protested at that but Jongdae cut him off.

“We’re a team, we work together. We’re _Minseok’s_ team,” Jongdae had said resolutely. “ _He’s_ the public face of our work. I _chose_ to work behind the scenes.”

There’s no good way to spring this on them, to tell them he might actually want more than that. It feels wrong, like he's stealing something that isn't and was never his.

Thankfully, he hadn’t needed to say any of that because Jongin picked up on it easily, always able to see right through him. He’d respectfully promised not to press him on it and to keep it to himself, at least until, if ever, Jongdae felt ready. 

Still, Jongdae feels oddly comforted that Jongin knows at all, and Chanyeol too now. Like it’s silent validation, which, he thinks, probably says a lot, though he’s not ready to share that yet. Besides, he still likes what he’s doing here. He hasn’t scrounged up the confidence to put himself out there like that yet anyway. 

“The public probably won’t even be into me,” he shrugs as they step out of the recording studio. Chanyeol punches him in the arm, immediately darting out of the way when Jongdae yelps indignantly and tries to lunge back at him.

Still, Chanyeol seems to realize that this is one argument he just can’t win and sighs, nudging back into Jongdae’s side softly. 

“I'm glad I get to hear you sing at least,” he says sincerely and Jongdae nods appreciatively, feeling a warmth bloom in his stomach. He’s grateful for that despite not feeling ready to push himself out any further.

Chanyeol heads off to grab a bite to eat from the cafeteria and Jongdae makes his way down the hall to find his brothers in the forey. He only notices the frown on Junmyeon’s face when he reaches them, noting the way Minseok keeps glancing at his phone. 

“Didn’t you guys just have a meeting with Jongin?” he asks, looking around for him. “I thought he was joining us for lunch.”

“He never showed up,” Minseok says, his fingers flying across the screen to shoot off a text, presumably to Jongin. “I’ve tried his cell and his office but I still can’t reach him. Nothing from his apartment either.”

“Have you called Kyungsoo?” Jongin’s editor.

“On it,” Minseok raises his phone up between them, setting it on speaker as they wait for the line to connect.

Kyungsoo picks up after two rings. 

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Hey Kyungsoo, it’s Minseok. Have you spoken to Jongin today?”

“ _I was about to ask_ you _. We were meant to have our usual video call to discuss a deadline but he missed it. He never misses them. I even went by the office but he’s not there. I can’t reach him anywhere._ ”

“Looks like we’ve hit the same wall,” Minseok sighs, his brows furrowing deeper. 

_“Is he okay?_ ” Kyungsoo asks, the quiet tone of concern edging into his voice.

“I'll let you know,” Minseok promises, ending the call.

“Maybe he overslept?” Jongdae suggests, but it sounds weak, even to him. He tries the apartment number again, hoping the third time really is a charm. 

‘ _How does this- oh it started uh- Hi, it’s Jongin! Leave a message at the-_ ”

“Voicemail again,” Jongdae mutters, frowning at his phone.

He tries Jongin’s cell again, but this time the line is actually engaged. Minseok anxiously checks his own phone as though Jongin might actually be trying to call _him_ then, but his screen stays dark and silent.

“I literally just talked to him last night, he seemed fine,” Junmyeon mutters, frowning deeply. “Something must have happened.”

Jongdae sees the growing concern and confusion on his brothers’ faces, mirroring his own. The cold slide of dread starts rising in his throat and he can't think of anything else to do but call again.

Except this time the call cuts off abruptly after one ring. Jongdae blinks at his screen, displaying the terminated call before blacking out. Jongin cut him off.

Moments later, the screen comes to life again at the arrival of a new text and Jongdae nearly drops the phone in his haste to open it. His brothers crowd into his side, trying to get a look at the message too.

“ _Sick. I'll call tomorrow_ ”

“What,” Minseok stares at the text, confused.

“This isn't like him,” Junmyeon sighs exasperatedly. “Kid doesn’t know what sick means, he shows up even when he’s half passed out with a fever. Now he can’t answer the phone?”

His mouth sets in a hard line. “Something’s wrong.”

They share a look and the cold dread in Jongdae’s throat tightens a little more.

 

 

Kyungsoo said the office was a bust so they reason his apartment should be the next best place to look for him.

Jongdae has the key to the apartment ready but the moment they actually step up to Jongin’s door his hand falters. He looks down at the cold steel in his slightly sweaty hand, and then back up at the locked door before him. 

“This feels wrong” he muses. Minseok and Junmyeon are uncharacteristically silent, clearly as hesitant about this as he is. Something about all this has made him uncertain. 

“He’s clearly avoiding us,” Jongdae goes on, only half buying the sick excuse. “Should we even be…”

He trails off, waving his hand at the door vaguely. Something about this feels particularly private and he’s at a loss here. 

They’re usually almost excessively lax with boundaries like these, in that they practically have none at all. It’s become second nature to just barge into each others’ place at all times without a second thought. 

This is one of the rare times when it doesn’t feel quite right to do that so freely. Like the time Minseok and Jongdae got into an argument over something at work that had them not speaking to each other for a week. Or the time Junmyeon first started dating Eunji and it took them all a while to adjust to her schedule and not walk in on them fucking on the couch again when she was over after her shift.

It feels private; it feels wrong to cross a line, knowing that the other side might not be so welcome to it. This is that time and Jongdae can feel that his brothers share his uneasiness. Junmyeon’s right though. This isn't like Jongin. He doesn’t just bail and disappear with no explanation, especially not where work or a commitment to his brothers is involved. Something _must_ be wrong. 

Jongdae pockets the key and knocks instead, something he hasn't had to do in a very long time. He tries again when there's no answer but if Jongin is in there, he doesn't seem to hear it. _’Or he’s choosing to ignore it,’_ Jongdae's heart sinks, growing increasingly perturbed. 

“What now?”

“I suppose there’s still a chance he might _actually_ be sick,” Minseok admits, patting down his pockets like he might miraculously find a soup sachet stashed there. 

“Maybe we should just-”

Jongdae gets cut off when there’s a sudden loud crash coming from inside the apartment and the sound of glass shattering. Minseok immediately motions at him to open the door. 

They step inside cautiously and Jongdae scans the room, the catastrophizer in him half expecting to see Jongin spread eagled on the floor in a pool of his own blood. He breathes a quiet sigh of relief when there’s nothing there. There’s still the bathroom floor, he thinks seriously, just about to go check it out when he hears Jongin’s low voice, slightly muffled through the bedroom door he’s got cracked open. It sounds like he’s talking to someone on the phone and Jongdae frowns, perplexed. He can’t see any broken glass anywhere, in fact there’s nothing out of place other than a scattering of papers on the kitchen counter. 

Minseok edges a little closer to it, something clearly catching his eye. 

“...look, I understand that it’s a major risk but-”

Jongin finally emerges from his bedroom and his eyes widen when he sees spots his brothers standing there, his face going visibly pale. 

“Shit, what are you-”

“He’s _suing?_ ”

Jongdae whips around at Minseok’s sudden exclamation and Junmyeon immediately darts to his side, gaping incredulously at the contents of the paper Minseok’s holding. Jongdae just catches sight of the prosecutor attorney’s crest stamped in the corner. He doesn’t have to see the name to know that Jihwan is involved.

“It’s _nothing_ ,” Jongin grits out, rushing over to snatch the paper away even though it’s pointless now. He looks devastated and Jongdae wonders guiltily if it's just about the papers or that his brothers found out about them.

“How is this nothing?” Minseok throws back. “He’s suing you for _copyright infringement?_ Jongin this is a 20 million won lawsuit.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Junmyeon asks turning back Jongin, his expression pinched.

“I can handle it,” Jongin mutters gruffly. “This is just Jihwan’s pathetic last ditch attempt to squeeze some more money out of me.”

Jongdae frowns, taking in Jongin’s appearance as he tries frantically to gather up the rest of the scattered papers and shove them somewhere else. He looks sick, pale and worn, probably hasn’t eaten anything. There’s a tired, angry frown etched on his face matching the hard tense lines of his shoulders. He belatedly notices that Jongin’s hand is actually bleeding, spotting the blood stains starting to seep through the fabric of the old shirt Jongin has got wrapped sloppily around his wound. That sheds some light on the breaking glass. 

Minseok is shaking his head exasperatedly, frowning and gnawing at his lower lip before he walks away and disappears into Jongin’s bathroom. 

“What happened?” Junmyeon finally asks, nodding at the bloody mess. He takes the papers from Jongin where he’s one handedly stuffing them haphazardly into a drawer and stacks them in tidily himself, nudging Jongin to sit down on one of the kitchen stools instead. His hand is shaking. 

“Knocked over a glass,” he mutters vaguely. 'It was an accident.”

Jongdae only caught the tail end of the phone conversation Jongin was having, but he can tell it was more out of frustration than an accident. 

“Where did Minseok hyung go?” Jongin asks then, twisting around to look for him. Jongdae is puzzled by the almost imperceptible way Jongin’s shoulders slump a little. “Is he-”

“Right here,” Minseok emerges from the bathroom, holding the first aid box in his hands. It makes a loud click when he opens it up on the kitchen counter and he pulls up a stool for himself in front of Jongin. 

“We can leave if you want us to,” Minseok says, gently raising Jongin’s wounded hand to unwind the shirt wrapped around it. Jongin hisses as the fabric peels away, gingerly turning his palm up to let Minseok patch him up. There’s a mess of cuts and blood crisscrossing his skin but luckily no shards of glass or gashes deep enough to need stitches.

“No, I’m- no,” Jongin says quietly. “Stay.”

He hisses again when Minseok pats his hand with a wet towel, gripping the counter with his other hand so hard his knuckles go white. 

“Must have been one big glass,” Minseok comments, clearly trying to distract him. Jongin grunts out a laugh but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“It’s been a shit day,” he grits through his teeth. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Minseok asks, his tone not demanding an affirmative. “I know it’s your business, but we were worried about you and we couldn’t reach you anywhere.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Jongin sighs, kneading his knuckles into his temple. 

Minseok cleans his hand up properly and winds a roll of gauze around it, tucking the end in under the folds. 

“Here,” he says, sliding out of his seat to get him a glass of water. “Don’t knock this one over too. You look like you’re about to keel over.” 

Despite the stern frown on his face as Jongin raises the glass to his lips, Jongdae can see Minseok’s hand resting on Jongin’s back. The quiet, concerned gesture seems to settle him more than the drink itself. 

“If you’re having legal trouble, I can call our team, they’ll get right on it,” Junmyeon tells him, pulling out his phone to call their company lawyers but Jongin shakes his head. 

“He’s only suing me, not the company. They can’t help me.”

Junmyeon pauses, clearly acknowledging the legal conflict of interest, and Jongdae sees the way his jaw hardens in silent outrage, even if he doesn’t say anything, for Jongin’s benefit. 

“Can I see it?” Junmyeon asks then. “The document.” 

Jongin nods, tilting his head back at the drawer he’d shoved all the papers into, including the one he snatched away from Minseok’s hand earlier. Junmyeon scans through text again, reading through the lawsuit terms and details. 

“This says he’s accusing you of stealing his idea conceived on his property,” Junmyeon says, his expression darkening even more.

“That’s bullshit!” Jongdae objects incredulously. He knows his brother. Besides, Jihwan has always had the creative affinity of a cardboard box.

Jongin rests his elbow on the edge of the table, leaning heavily as he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his fingers harder into his temple, clearly nursing a headache. 

“It was the sketch for one of my manhwa covers,” Jongin sighs, all the fight seeming to melt away as his shoulders droop, beaten down. It looks as though a month’s worth of exhaustion has suddenly caught up with him and it’s all over his face. Jongdae hates seeing him like this, feeling helpless to do anything for him. 

“I was at his place and my computer died. I just used his for a while to finish it and send it off so I could make my deadline,” Jongin goes on. “All he did was pick the colour for the border, fuck, I can't _believe_ he's doing this.”

He sighs heavily. “Or I guess maybe I can. Probably should have seen this coming.”

“There's no way you could have seen this coming,” Minseok says firmly, squeezing his shoulder.

“He can’t seriously sue over a colour, right?” Jongdae frowns at the document, looking at the line of zeroes tacked on for damages.

Junmyeon rubs at his chin absently. “No, but he can if he claims it was more than just a colour. He could drag it out in court if he plays his cards right and has a good lawyer.” 

“He does,” Jongin affirms. “Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. Been calling law firms all day to find someone to represent me and they keep turning me down the second they hear who it is.”

“Why’s that?” Minseok frowns.

“Apparently he’s some hotshot who likes to play dirty. Something about underhanded tricks in court and levying blackmail. I’m a bit lost on the legal technicalities.”

His brows furrow. “Figures he’d hire someone like that.” 

Jongin finally gets off the stool, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling through his nose. 

“Look, I just-” he shakes his head, picking at a loose thread on the gauze around his hand before looking up firmly. “I wanted to handle it myself because I didn’t want to give the company any trouble. Being associated with someone embroiled in a lawsuit isn’t good publicity.” 

Minseok tries to interject but Jongin cuts him off quickly. 

“This is my problem and I need to deal with it. You guys didn’t need to be dragged into it. Not just yet at least. I’m sure it’ll hit the headlines eventually.”

His voice wobbles, only slightly, before steadying out again. “I feel guilty enough as it is. This was something personal, _my_ personal life, and I couldn’t keep it from getting to this point that it would affect our work lives and reputation.” 

Another deep breath. “I just need to find a lawyer who’ll take my case.” 

Minseok and Junmyeon both look like they’re torn between smacking Jongin and hugging him but Jongdae gets to him first and pinches him reprimandingly on the arm. 

“I thought we said we weren’t gonna pull this shit anymore,” he says quietly, watching the knowing look cross all their faces, hanging on to the way Jongin’s hand falters where he’s rubbing his shoulder because he knows exactly what he means by that. 

Jongdae remembers it vividly, the way Jongin would bottle everything up when they were young, insisting that he didn’t need to bother anyone with his tiny troubles. Until his trouble weren’t so tiny anymore and Jongin made himself terribly ill trying to suppress so much. 

Eventually, he came out to the whole family but even then, he still held back, still seemed reserved even as he confessed. He told them just enough, about how terribly lonely and lost he’d been feeling, being unable to tell anyone because he didn’t know how to, because he was confused. 

He was always a quiet kid at school, with a small handful of friends but no one close enough for this kind of thing. His brothers were all he had. Jongdae should have _been_ there for him, he should have noticed. He should have realized what he was going through, he should have seen the signs because he, of all people, _knew_ what it was like. 

Jongdae had known he was gay for a while back then, or rather he was working on figuring himself out. He only ever discussed it privately with Minseok because he felt comfortable enough to, even as he was still trying to understand what he wanted. Circumstances had been kind to him, but they had not been kind to Jongin. 

The overwhelming stabbing guilt stayed with him for a long time after that. Jongdae desperately wishes he could have been there for Jongin through what he’d made himself suffer through alone so needlessly, if he’d only looked a little more closely, paid more attention. He could have been there for him every step of the way, he could have comforted him, helped him through the confusion. They could have helped each other because they would have understood better than anyone else.

They’d had a good long talk about it when Junmyeon finally decided to haul them all off to the quiet little beach they’d come upon during summer break, quiet and undetected enough for them to hash things out properly between them, with nowhere to hide.

The first thing Jongdae did was apologize, repeatedly, even though Jongin vehemently insisted that he didn’t have to, that there was nothing to apologize for. Minseok eventually broke the cycle of guilt claiming by suggesting a pact between the four of them; to be a shoulder and to have one back in turn. To bear the weight together no matter whose boulder it was. 

Back then it was a cluster of flimsy, damp seaweed bracelets around their wrists sealing the deal. Now it’s just a memory that burns in the backs of their minds, reminding them that it’s always there. 

“I call Beach Pact,” Jongdae says resolutely, reaching out for Jongin’s shoulder again but Jongin edges out of the way this time, heading for the safety of his couch. 

“Ugh, fuck, I know,” he sighs, slumping down on the edge of the cushions and runs his good hand through his hair roughly. 

“Look, I have a friend who can put you in touch with someone to take your case, I’ll give you his firm’s contact details,” Jongdae offers, smacking Jongin’s hand away to ruffle his hair back into place himself.

Jongin nods gratefully, his face still a little drawn but miles more peaceful than when they first came in. 

Minseok and Junmyeon have to leave then, needing to get back to the studio for a meeting with a production company. They promise to check back in later, looking apologetic to be leaving so suddenly but Jongin reassures them that he’s fine as he walks them to the door.

Jongdae hangs back, still having some time on his hands before he needs to be back at work too. 

Minseok stops at the doorway and Jongdae hears him murmur to Jongin; “Sorry for just barging in.” 

Jongin shakes his head, smiling, and they embrace before Minseok leaves. He stares at the closed door wordlessly for a moment before turning and slumping back down on the couch with a sigh. Jongdae immediately plants himself beside him.

“We’ll figure this out,” he says.

“I know,” Jongin tilts his head to look at him, a small tired smile on his face. “I just...it shouldn't have to be this hard, you know? Wanting to be happy.”

“I know,” Jongdae says. 

“Does that make me pathetic?” Jongin asks quietly, not looking at him anymore but Jongdae still catches the glassy mist over his eyes.

“No,” Jongdae says firmly. “It makes you human.”

Jongin sighs. “I guess.”

His expression starts to slip and Jongdae yanks him over in an impromptu chokehold, his arm around Jongin’s neck, holding him tight. Jongin yelps, legs flailing as he tugs futilely at Jongdae’s hold.

“We’re gonna figure it out together, okay?” he says, adding an extra vigorous hair ruffle for good measure to make Jongin grunt and wave his hands back blindly to try and smack him. “All of us.”

“I know,” Jongin says, finally giving up the struggle and slumping limply in Jongdae’s lap. Jongdae loosens his grip and Jongin shifts, rolling to flatten his back comfortably on the couch and keeps his head pillowed on Jongdae’s legs.

“I just wanted to take care of the problem quickly but it’s gotten a lot bigger than I am.”

Jongdae playfully tightens his hold again. “You’re our baby brother, you know we’ve got your back.” 

“I do. But I’m still a grown man,” Jongin says, tilting his head enough to catch Jongdae’s eye. “I should be able to handle it. I wanted to handle it even if it wasn’t going to work out. This started because of me, it’s on _me_. _I_ need to fix this.”

Jongdae nods respectfully, listening to what he’s saying. Sometimes he thinks he’ll get used to how mature and committed to a matter Jongin can be but it still catches him off guard sometimes. When he’s got his mind set on something, he follows through so thoroughly to the very end, even if he might need a hand along the way. He sees the way Jongin strives to take responsibility for himself and it awes him, swelling with pride. Even if he _does_ need a reminder to take it easy sometimes.

“I do appreciate it though,” Jongin adds, a little sheepish now. “You guys helping me out.”

Jongdae goes back to ruffling Jongin’s hair teasingly until Jongin finally wriggles out of his grip and yanks Jongdae off the couch altogether.

 

-

 

The waitress brings the bill to their table and they both nods in thanks, as Junmyeon drinks the last bit of his now lukewarm coffee. 

Minseok feels his phone vibrate, and he smiles at the doodle Jongin texted him from work.

“You’ve barely touched your drink,” Junmyeon says, quirking an eyebrow.

Minseok sighs, pocketing his phone and letting go of the teaspoon he’s been stirring idly in his own cup of coffee. 

“I just can’t get it out of my mind,” he says, leaning back in his seat. It’s been a week since they found out about the lawsuit. “That Jongin might have felt like he couldn’t tell us. I just wonder if there’s something we could have done, that we should be doing differently.”

“Don’t do that,” Junmyeon berates him, setting his cup back on the little plate with a decisive clink. “He would have done the same thing anyway. You know how he is. Wouldn’t be Jongin if he didn't have a shot at a problem by himself first.”

“He gets it though, right?” Minseok persists, unable to shake the uneasiness and worry that he’s not doing the big brother thing right. “That there’s no harm in asking for help.”

“He does,” Junmyeon nods. “It’s always been our job to remind him we’re here if he hits a wall.”

That will have to do, Minseok finally concedes, nodding and raising the mug to his lips. His expression pinches when he takes a mouthful of cold coffee.

Pleased, Junmyeon pulls out his wallet, looking for the right number of bills to put down but he suddenly freezes, catching sight of something over Minseok’s shoulder. His expression grows dark, jaw tightening coldly. Alarmed, Minseok turns around to follow his line of sight and immediately sees what he’s looking at. 

The last person he thought he’d be seeing walking into the same cafe for lunch is Jihwan himself, accompanied by his colleagues, probably. 

Minseok grits his teeth, itching to get up and knock that sleazy smile off his face but somehow he restrains himself, no matter how much red he’s seeing. Anything he does now will only make it worse for Jongin and the lawsuit still hanging over his head. 

Instead, he grips his mug tightly to keep his hands busy, staring down at the porcelain furiously. All he sees when he looks at him is Jongin’s pain.

“I just feel like we should be doing something more,” he hisses, reminded of how they all bought the nice act Jihwan put on for them the whole time he was with his brother. It leaves a sour taste on his tongue, all the way down the back of his throat. 

“I know,” Junmyeon grunts. “Jongdae said he called a friend to get in touch with someone good for the case.”

Minseok breathes heavily through his nose, folding his arms tightly. “So all we can do now is wait.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Junmyeon says, sweeping out of his seat. “The air’s gone rotten.”

 

-

 

Jongdae rushes down the hall, clutching his phone tightly in his hands and trying to groom his hair down as he makes his way to the conference room where the lawyer is waiting. He texted to announce his arrival for their appointment Jongdae kicks himself for letting it slip his mind that it was today, having been swamped with things to do since he got in to work. 

He gives up on his hair and straightens his shirt instead before pushing the door open to the conference room, hoping he doesn’t look as dishevelled as he feels. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I was in the- oh.”

Jongdae freezes, letting the words trail away on his lips when the lawyer turns around to face him. His stomach bottoms out and takes his heart with it, leaving a cold tightness to squeeze around his lungs, making it hard to breathe for a moment. Jongdae swallows, trying to find his voice but he can’t even feel his legs or fingers anymore, rooted to the spot. He can't move, he can't feel anything.

“Baekhyun?” he manages, feeling his heart slam back up and lodge in his throat, thrumming like a hummingbird. It's cold. Everything feels cold.

Baekhyun gives him a smile, slightly strained around the edges. “Hi Jongdae. It’s been a while.”


End file.
